


Secrets

by acciomerlin



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:47:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23447242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acciomerlin/pseuds/acciomerlin
Summary: Merlin has two secrets. One is revealed to Arthur and the other is revealed to everyone.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 49
Kudos: 826





	Secrets

Merlin had lived a fairly carefree life before coming to Camelot. He’d had a good childhood, innocent and pure. Yes, his mother had forbidden him from revealing his magic to anyone but Ealdor was still a part of Cenred’s kingdom where sorcery wasn’t outlawed. People were apprehensive about it but at least Merlin didn’t run the risk of getting hanged for it, if he were ever found out. Hunith and Will had been the people closest to him and they knew everything about him, which was all he could ask for. Life was simple, unburdened. Having secrets was not something Merlin had a lot of experience with. Unluckily for him, this exact skillset was extensively tested the minute he set foot in Camelot and the first thing he witnessed was a petty sorcerer’s execution.

Suddenly there was this massive threat to his life because of something he’d been born with, not to mention having to bear the crushing knowledge of his and Arthur’s destinies weighing heavily on his soul. He also hadn’t expected to grow so close to Arthur, which meant that constantly having to lie to him was chipping away at Merlin’s conscience.

And if all that wasn’t enough, Merlin’s magic had all of a sudden decided to become a rebellious little bitch during certain, uh, _situations_ and he wished he could just take it out and lock it away for a few hours from time to time as punishment.

Needless to say, Merlin was _tired._

* * *

It was highly probable that Merlin had lost the ability to think clearly.

Arthur had Merlin pinned underneath him on the gigantic, princely bed and he was supposed to be _enjoying_ this.

Arthur was kissing him hot and filthy, his calloused hand under Merlin’s tunic freely roaming and mapping his skin –slowly moving from his back to his waist to his hips, tracing each individual rib with his fingers. Merlin gasped into his mouth when he felt the sharp sting of the cold metal of Arthur’s rings as he splayed his hand on Merlin’s belly.

Merlin was clutching at Arthur’s hair with one hand and kept the other one fisted in the sheets, trying desperately to keep his traitorous magic under check. He was seriously starting to question if he controlled his magic, or if it controlled him.

Just when he thought he had it under control and could now concentrate on thoroughly kissing Arthur back, Arthur took him by surprise and nipped at his lower lip, causing Merlin to go off his guard. He felt some of his power trickle out of him in a fast flash. His eyes flew open in alarm to see the candelabra on Arthur’s study table swiftly rush to the edge, almost on the verge of falling down.

Merlin whined helplessly which Arthur took to be encouragement because he started trailing searing open-mouthed kisses down his jaw to his throat to his collarbones, sucking at the sensitive skin.

Merlin groaned. He loved when Arthur did this, he loved it _so much_ but it did prove to be rather inconvenient at times.

“Don’t mark me,” Merlin warned, his breath coming out in short gasps.

“Too late,” Arthur declared, sealing the surely darkening bruise with a soft kiss.

“It’s summer, Arthur,” Merlin complained. “I’m tired of wearing a neckerchief all the time. It’s going to give me a heatstroke one of these days and it will be all your fault.”

Arthur rolled his eyes at him, hair mussed and mouth red.

“Then don’t wear a neckerchief,” he suggested. “They’re love bites, Merlin. No one’s going to throw you in the dungeons if you’re spotted with one.”

“Oh? And what will I say when someone inevitably asks who gave them to me?” Merlin inquired, looking up at him with raised eyebrows.

Arthur shrugged. “You don’t owe people every detail of your life. I’m sure they’ll believe you have a lover somewhere.”

Merlin stared at him. “They will,” he said slowly, as if Arthur were affected in the head. “Because I do. You.”

Arthur considered that, jutting out his bottom lip a little. “Hmm. The Crown Prince of Camelot? Really? You might want to set your sights lower, you want the story to be believable.”

“It’s the truth, you prat!” Merlin cried in disbelief.

Arthur laughed, free and unrestrained. Merlin got the urge to inform him that rumours about the two of them had started circulating in the castle as early as Merlin’s second week in Camelot. It wasn’t _unbelievable_ at all. In fact, one of the cooks was convinced that Arthur fancied the pants off of Merlin. Which, he supposed, he did.

Merlin’s words died on his tongue when Arthur’s tongue pushed against it, as he had started snogging him again. Not that Merlin was complaining, he was sure he’d find plenty of opportunities to tell Arthur about the rumours at a later date.

However, they were interrupted far too quickly for Merlin’s liking, as someone rapped on the door of Arthur’s chambers, their knocks hesitant and unsure.

Merlin didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. He could barely control the magic that threatened to spill out of him during these moments, and he considered it a grave injustice. He'd wanted this, wanted Arthur for so long and now when he had him, his magic was ruining everything. Merlin had to walk on eggshells all the time, be even more careful with it than before, when all he wanted was for Arthur to have his way with him without having to think about potentially revealing himself as an illegal sorcerer.

This couldn't be a _gift_ , it was a curse to punish him. It was the universe’s personal grudge against him, he was sure of it.

“Sire?” the meek voice of a servant boy called from outside the latched door.

Arthur promptly ignored him and buried his face in Merlin’s neck, as if silently praying for the boy to go away.

Receiving no answer, the servant called again, a bit more boldly this time. “Sire?”

Arthur sighed exasperatedly against Merlin’s skin and lifted his head to yell back. “ _What?”_

“His Majesty, the king, demands your presence in the court at once,” the boy stammered.

Arthur looked at Merlin beseechingly. Merlin just shrugged in response. 

“Alright, fine!” Arthur shouted at the boy, visibly annoyed.

He pressed a parting kiss to the corner of Merlin’s mouth, removed his hands from under his tunic and rolled off him, leaving the room soon after.

Merlin bemoaned the sudden loss of contact and just lay there for a moment, staring at the canopy of the bed. Every nerve ending seemed to be crackling with Arthur’s residual heat and he felt disoriented, like he’d just drank several tankards of ale.

He ran his tongue over his lips and sighed, before he too got up.

Merlin inspected the dark marks on his throat in the mirror, touching the tender skin lightly. He looked for his neckerchief to cover it up but it was nowhere to be found.

Merlin swore under this breath, wracking his brain for where he had left it when he suddenly realised that he’d lost it two days back. That had been his last one too.

Typical that Arthur had decided him to mark him like his territory the one time Merlin didn’t have a neckerchief.

He briefly considered covering the love bites up with magic but quickly decided against it. He didn’t want a repeat of last time when instead of disappearing, the bruises had turned into blisters and had thoroughly disgusted many people, which mostly meant Gaius. He’d had to pretend to be sick for a week and had avoided Arthur like the plague.

Turning up the collar of his jacket as high as he could, Merlin exited Arthur’s chambers, praying he didn’t run into anyone on the way to Gaius’s. 

Of course as his luck would have it, he almost immediately collided with Gwen who was carrying a laundry basket.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” she said immediately, then caught sight of who it was. “Well, hello Merlin!”

Before he could greet her back, her gaze travelled from his face to his throat and she clamped a hand on her mouth in surprise, letting the basket fall on the ground.

Merlin pointed a finger at her. “Not a word.”

Gwen nodded, shaking with silent laughter. She looked to see where he’d been coming from and her eyebrows climbed high with curiosity.

“You coming out of Arthur’s room with those marks on you…are very interesting circumstances, though of course I’d never make any assumptions,” Gwen said with a twinkle in her eye.

“Please don’t,” Merlin pleaded. “I’ve lost my neckerchief. I’m already very stressed.”

Then rubbing his forehead tiredly, he noticed the clothes basket lying on the floor.

“Gwen,” he said, gesturing to the basket. “Is –is there something in there I could use? To cover these up?”

“Hmm,” Gwen contemplated, instantly dropping to her knees and rummaging through the clothes. “Let me see.”

She shortly came up with a shiny pink cloth that had yellow daffodils printed on it and offered it to Merlin with an sheepish smile. “How about this?”

Merlin stared at the monstrosity with horror. “ _Absolutely not_.”

“Oh come on Merlin,” insisted Gwen, trying to shove the cloth into his hand. “It’ll do the job. Besides, you’ll look very pretty.”

“Undoubtedly,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “But the knights or Arthur, for that matter, will never let me live it down. I’m already the butt of most of their jokes-”

“Wait,” Gwen said suddenly, her hands digging into the basket, feeling for something. She finally got it and presented a small tin box. “I thought so! I wondered where this had disappeared off to. This could help.”

“What’s that?” Merlin questioned, eyeing the box dubiously.

Gwen gave him a meaningful look and said, “Face paint.”

It took a minute for Merlin to get her implication but when he did, he took a step back in terror. “No, _no Gwen._ ”

“It’s your only other option,” Gwen reasoned, in the calm voice she used whenever she wanted to convince someone of something. It was highly effective. “It’s either this or the flower cloth or letting everyone see that the prince –”

“Alright!” Merlin exclaimed before she could finish that sentence, furiously blushing. “The –the face paint, it is.”

* * *

Merlin couldn’t get the scowl off his face as he watched the knights train. He had good reason to be irritated. There was a thick layer of goop on his face and neck that was itching slightly and he couldn’t even stay under the sun for too long, for fear that it would melt and land him in yet another embarrassing situation.

Gwen had insisted on applying that abhorrent thing on his face as well as his neck. Apparently it had looked unnatural with both being different shades, so he had to now parade around looking like an abnormally white person. This was all Arthur’s fault, all of it.

Who was now sparring with Percival, being blissfully unaware of the mess he’d caused with his stupid, beautiful mouth.

“Are you feeling okay?” asked Lancelot, as he sidled up to him in the shadows. He was looking intently at Merlin with narrowed eyes, as if trying to figure out what was different with him.

“Yes, of course,” answered Merlin with fake cheeriness. “Just didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” said Lancelot sympathetically. He slapped Merlin’s shoulder lightly. “I’ll tell you what I do when I’m not able to sleep. I burn out all my pent up energy with physical exertion and afterwards, I always end up sleeping like a baby.”

“Oh, I’ll be sure to try that,” Merlin said offhandedly, barely listening to what Lancelot had said…when suddenly his brain backtracked. “Wait, did you say _burn out_?”

Lancelot smiled and nodded. “Sleep doesn’t come easily when there’s extra energy in your body so if you use it all up, it can’t interfere with anything.”

_Use up. Burn out._

_Oh,_ oh the beginnings of an idea were forming in Merlin’s head. Maybe Lancelot was onto something, just not in the way he thought.

What if –what if this worked on his magic as well? What if he could burn out the existing store of magic in his body at one time and then it wouldn’t threaten to burst out of him when he and Arthur were alone together?

Merlin didn’t know if it would work, but it was definitely worth a try. He had nothing to lose.

He broke out of his reverie as the sound of heavy footsteps reached him. The knights and Arthur were done with their training and were coming into the shade to cool down.

Gwaine was staring at him curiously, and Merlin tried to make himself as small as possible, avoiding eye contact by looking down at the ground.

If Gwaine _had_ noticed something, he prayed that he didn’t ask about it –

“Oi Merlin, what’s wrong with your skin?” he asked loudly, in typical Gwaine fashion. Merlin wanted to stuff Gwaine’s revolting socks into his mouth to shut him up.

Merlin froze as everyone’s attention snapped to him, especially to his _skin_ , as Gwaine had so eloquently put it.

“He’s right,” Arthur said, coming closer to take a better look. “I thought it was a trick of the light but there is something off about it. Are you feeling ill?”

Merlin swallowed nervously. He didn’t deserve this.

“Oh, he’s not sick,” Gwaine declared, with a devious little smirk on his face. “I know what this is. I’ve seen it on enough ladies by now and real up close too.”

He winked lewdly, causing everyone to wrinkle their noses in distaste.

Gwaine had an evil glint in his eyes and Merlin was getting a very bad feeling about this.

He started backing up quickly just to be safe but before he could fully escape, Gwaine had tackled him to the ground, and they both started struggling against each other. Not a single knight helped Merlin. He would remember this when the time came to save their arses from some life-threatening situation or the other.

Gwaine pinned him down easily with one arm while he wetted his thumb with spit, and attempted to rub it on Merlin’s face. However, Merlin turned his face away at the last moment and Gwaine ended up rubbing at his throat instead, conveniently uncovering one of the love bites Arthur had left on his skin like some bloody souvenir.

Gwaine let him go, his eyes going wide as saucers.

“Oh, that is disgusting, Gwaine!” Merlin cried, wiping at the wetness on his throat with the sleeve of his tunic, idiotically rubbing away even more of the face paint.

“Now what do we have here?” teased Elyan, grinning as he offered a hand to help Merlin up.

Merlin took it and got up, shooting Gwen’s brother a cold look.

He glanced at Arthur to see if he looked as flustered as Merlin felt but the prat was completely composed, his expression giving nothing away. Merlin hated him in that moment.

“Have you been keeping secrets from us, Merls?” Gwaine asked, with a mock scandalised expression.

Secrets. Huh. They really had no idea.

“Aww imagine our Merlin being in love,” cooed Percival.

“Or it could just be an arrangement of mutual pleasure,” supplied Lancelot cheekily. Merlin gaped at him. Not Lancelot too!

“Is this the reason you’ve been shirking your duties, Merlin?” Arthur had the nerve to ask, with a shit-eating grin on his face.

Merlin stared at him. Arthur quirked his eyebrows challengingly.

Oh, so it was like this, was it? Merlin could play this game as well.

He shrugged casually. “Whatever I do, I do in my own time.”

“Oooh,” hooted Gwaine, looking far too delighted. “And who do you do it with?”

“Yeah Merlin, who’s the lucky person?” asked Elyan. “Come on, you can tell us.”

Merlin smiled, briefly glancing at Arthur. “Oh, it wouldn’t interest you,” he said. “They’re rather irrelevant.”

Merlin watched with glee as Arthur’s perfectly calm façade slipped.

“To tell you the truth, I’ve been thinking of leaving them,” he added.

“Why, pray tell?” asked one of the knights eagerly. Arthur’s expression was getting increasingly stonier.

“Well, what can I say? Their _performance_ is subpar and not up to my usual standard,” Merlin answered, inspecting his fingernails nonchalantly.

Gwaine whistled. “Are you saying they’re shit in bed?”

“Extremely,” confirmed Merlin. “It’s a shame really. What a waste of a pretty face –”

“Shut up, Merlin,” Arthur blurted out, taking the bait.

Everyone turned to look at him with great interest.

Arthur faltered. “I just meant- I won't stand for the character assassination of some poor lad - or lady,” he quickly added, “who is probably just trying their best and Merlin's too thick to see it."

“You sound very sure of that,” said Lancelot, with a knowing smirk, “for someone who’s not involved in the affair at all.”

Arthur swallowed nervously, and stammered, “It –it is my duty to protect every citizen of Camelot from baseless rumours like this. That’s all.”

“Is that so?”

“How do you know they’re baseless?”

“Would you also be considered a citizen of Camelot, sire? Just checking.”

“Maybe he _is_ involved in the affair, Lancelot. What do we know -”

“Enough!” yelled Arthur, colour high on his cheeks. “This discussion is over.”

“Whatever you say, princess,” Gwaine said chuckling, clapping Arthur on the back.

The knights left the training ground one by one, beaming like harvest had come early.

Arthur met Merlin’s eyes.

Nobody had outright acknowledged it but they knew that _they_ knew _._

Merlin and Arthur’s secret was out.

* * *

Merlin flexed his fingers as he stood in darkness in the cavern beneath the castle where Kilgharrah had once been imprisoned. The large expanse of the place was intimidating, and so was the deafening silence. He hadn’t noticed how eerie this cave was before. Being caged here for decades was unimaginable. Merlin couldn’t condemn the dragon _too much_ for wanting to kill Uther and destroy his kingdom.

His magic impatiently pricked at him beneath his skin, identifying the ancient energy of the place that had housed The Great Dragon for years.

Merlin took a deep breath and let it out of him slowly, his mind filling with the heady feeling of power, exhilarating and brilliant. The magic poured out unrestrained and wild, and he hadn’t felt this alive in years. He was always suppressing it far too much, pushing it down when it was supposed to be nurtured.

Yes, he did make petty jobs easier with his magic on a daily basis like getting stains out, or warming bathwater but a power of this strength was meant for greater feats and Merlin was denying it that.

Feeling freer than he had in a long time, Merlin didn’t give his power any particular direction –just let it pave its own path and naturally, it dove into its elemental roots.

Before he knew what was happening, there was grass growing beneath his feet in the hard stone and he saw a trickle of water going down the craggy rocks in front him, increasing its flow with each passing second. Soon, the sound of twittering birds reached his ears and he smiled as a glowing blue butterfly sat on his nose, delicately fluttering its wings.

Excited, he let more of his power out and the trickle of water turned into a gushing waterfall in no time, roaring loudly in the large cavern. There were tiny wildflowers growing out of every crack in the harsh rocks, giving the scene a strange juxtaposition. His heart swelled as the cold, lifeless space thrived and breathed, creating more and more beauty.

Merlin looked down to realise that he was floating a few feet off the ground, his skin emanating an ethereal radiance. He took a shuddering breath and took in the astonishing view in front of him, hardly believing his eyes. He forgot that he even had an ulterior motive to all this because…this was it. This was more than enough on its own, witnessing the life he could create. He had never channelled his power in this way. It was always bloodshed and violence and trickery and deception, and he’d forgotten that he was capable of something so pure, so untainted.

Merlin knew this was an illusion, knew that it would fade away the minute he left the cavern but to still be able to create such marvellous beauty…it was overwhelming. It felt sacred.

He willed himself to get back on the ground and his knees buckled as soon as his feet touched the unnaturally green grass. Panting slightly, he seated himself down on the cool earth and watched everything, completely mesmerised.

Merlin didn’t know how long he sat there.

* * *

By the time Merlin made it to Arthur’s chambers, the sky outside had already darkened.

He opened the door excitedly to find… no one inside. Well, that was disappointing. The room was dark and cold, as though it hadn’t contained a hot-blooded body in hours.

Merlin trudged inside and lit all the candles. He made a fire and closed the windows to keep the chilly night air out, making the place toasty and warm.

Sighing, he sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at the door. Where was Arthur? Why was Uther keeping him so long? How much longer was Merlin going to have to wait?

Soon, his eyes started getting heavy as an intense feeling of drowsiness came over him. He felt completely drained and wanted to curl up into the soft bed more than anything. But no. _No, he couldn’t._ He had to wait for Arthur, test his theory.

Well…maybe… he could lie down for some time, just until Arthur came back. It would replenish his energy, and make him more alert and just sounded like a very good idea in the moment.

Without needing much convincing, Merlin indulged and lay back down on the mattress, his feet still on the ground. The fire crackled and his breathing evened out. Before Merlin could form a single coherent thought, he had passed out.

* * *

Merlin woke up to blinding sunlight hitting his face, turning the inside of his eyelids an unpleasant red. He groaned and dragged an arm over his eyes, planning to go right back to sleep… before he heard a shifting noise beside him. He froze and removed his hand to squint around.

His blurry vision finally focused enough to see that he was in what looked like Arthur’s chambers and his bed more specifically. Merlin was snugly tucked into the blankets, his boots and jacket removed.

He looked down to see Arthur's arm lying heavily around his waist, and the man himself was sleeping soundly with his face squished into a pillow. Merlin allowed himself a small smile and tried to remember how he’d ended up here.

The recollection came quickly and he sighed.

He’d exhausted himself in the cavern and then fallen asleep here. Of course, this was just like him. He didn’t know when Arthur had come in but Merlin couldn’t believe he’d actually been considerate enough to not make any noise and wake him up, not to mention making him comfortable and covering him up. Merlin’s affection for him surged.

Almost as if he could hear Merlin thinking about him, Arthur shuffled and tightened his arm around him.

His heart in his throat, Merlin squirmed and tried to get out of the embrace. He didn’t know what time it was. Arthur had an important meeting with the council and most importantly, after the previous day’s debacle, Merlin could not be seen here like this.

“Merlin, stop moving and go back to sleep,” Arthur said suddenly, his voice raspy.

Merlin stilled and turned to look at him. Now that Arthur was somewhat awake, he had no qualms about shoving his arm away and getting up to leave as fast as possible. However, the attempt turned out to be futile because Arthur reflexively caught his wrist and pulled Merlin on top of him.

Merlin unceremoniously landed with his hands on Arthur’s chest, the prince staring up at him in protest.

“How dare you try to leave without my permission?” he wanted to know, slowly blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

“I can’t be seen here, Arthur,” answered Merlin.

“Why the hell not?”

Merlin exhaled. “It’s too early for me to be here, and the guards didn’t see me coming in the morning either, so if they see me leaving, they’re sure to think it suspicious. Now I’d like to limit this to the guards and not wait till the entire castle wakes up and thinks we’ve been –”

“Let people think what they want,” Arthur interrupted, effectively putting a stop to his ramblings.

“What?” breathed Merlin.

“I don’t care what anyone thinks,” Arthur repeated, as if telling him something as simple as the day’s weather. “Besides, after yesterday, the whole of Camelot probably knows about us by now anyway.”

Merlin looked at him with wide eyes to see if there was any trace of humour in his expression. There wasn’t.

“Arthur,” he said, stunned. 

Arthur rolled his eyes, as though this conversation was boring him. “Look, Merlin,” he said matter-of-factly, “I’m not ashamed of being with you. I wasn’t going to announce it to the world but if everyone already knows, it really doesn’t matter to me. Now, if you’ve got another problem –”

“Wait, what? Are you serious? What about your father? He’d exile me if he found out,” Merlin said, anxiously running a hand through his hair.

“I’ll deny it,” Arthur replied with a small smile. “He won’t have any proof and nobody will dare go against my word.”

Merlin could do nothing but stare at him incredulously, feeling like his ears were deceiving him.

“It’s a good thing I’ll be king one day,” Arthur continued casually. “Because kings don’t have to answer to anyone about who they’ve been sleeping with.”

He smirked, flicking Merlin’s nose lightly, and Merlin wanted to kiss him.

There Arthur was with his tousled blond hair, laying underneath him, pliant and soft with sleep, the morning light making his face glow and his blue eyes brighter than ever, and he was saying all these wonderful things and Merlin wanted nothing more than to press their lips together and snog the daylights out of him.

So that’s what he did. He took Arthur’s face in his hands and closed the distance between them, kissing him deep and slow.

Merlin didn’t care about anything else in that moment, only showing Arthur how he felt about him. Arthur fisted his fingers in Merlin’s shirt, pulling their bodies flush together.

Merlin broke them apart to kiss Arthur’s jaw and his neck and anywhere else he could find that wasn’t inconveniently covered in clothing.

Arthur was breathing shallowly, his chest rising and falling in quick succession.

“Merlin –” he started but Merlin cut him off by bringing their lips together again, and Arthur melted into him.

It was a few minutes before Arthur was able to get his bearings and mumble something against Merlin’s mouth.

“Control your magic,” he said hoarsely, not loosening his grip on Merlin’s shirt at all.

“Hmm,” Merlin hummed, barely registering anything he was saying.

But Arthur’s words clicked belatedly and Merlin pulled away abruptly in shock. 

He looked around to see glimmering tendrils of magic swirling around them, sparkling and golden. There were also vines growing from the canopy of the bed, flowers blooming all over them.

_No, no, no. This could not be happening. How could Merlin have forgotten about how his magic reacted in times like these?_

He glanced at Arthur in panic, already looking for escape routes and listing spells in his head to knock Arthur out, if need be.

Merlin swallowed hard. “Arthur, I –”

Arthur, to his surprise, just looked highly amused. “What, you thought I didn’t know?”

Merlin stared at him with wide eyes, slack-jawed and speechless.

Arthur huffed out a laugh. “You’re pretty obvious Merlin, I’ll have you know. You weren’t tricking me the way you thought.”

“How long have you known?” Merlin croaked. He wanted to pinch himself to see if it was real. This couldn’t possibly be real life. The secret Merlin had spent years trying to hide from him, lost sleep and worried himself sick over…was something Arthur already knew. And he didn’t seem angry about it, at least not enough to drag Merlin to the executioner’s block right away.

Arthur shrugged. “A while. I was waiting for you to tell me.”

Merlin’s cheeks heated with shame and he stammered, “I’m so sorry, Arthur. I wanted to tell you. I swear. It was killing me inside lying to you but I was –I was just –”

“- scared,” Arthur finished, his eyes uncharacteristically tender. “I know.”

“It did trouble me deeply when I first found out,” he continued, a shadow casting over his face as he fiddled with the laces of Merlin’s tunic. “I felt betrayed and I was so furious and I wanted to cast you away but –”

“But?” Merlin asked, not even daring to blink.

“But it was _you_ ,” Arthur said simply, smiling crookedly.

Pure, unadulterated relief washed over Merlin in such intense waves that he collapsed on top of Arthur, burrowing his face in his chest, finally feeling like he could breathe again. Merlin felt lighter than he had in years, with the unbearable weight on his shoulders vanishing at last. It seemed something out of his wildest dreams.

“How much of an idiot do you think I am anyway, that you thought you had me fooled?” Arthur asked, his hand at the nape of Merlin’s neck.

“Wellll…” started Merlin.

“Don’t answer that,” Arthur said, and Merlin could imagine him rolling his eyes.

“You’re going to have to be more careful though, Merlin,” Arthur warned, suddenly serious, as he carded his fingers through Merlin’s hair. “My father would have you beheaded if he found out.”

Merlin nodded, a chill going up his spine at the words.

“I’d hate to see that happen,” Arthur continued in a lighter voice, “I’ve gotten so used to you warming my bed, it’d be a pain to find someone new.”

Merlin barked out a laugh, pinching Arthur’s hips. “Shut up, my ghost will make sure you die alone.”

“Although, don’t think you get off that easy” Arthur said in his I’m-going-to-be-a-prat-now tone.

Merlin lifted his head to look at him with narrowed eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“I am rather upset about what you said about me yesterday, in front of the knights, even if you did humiliate yourself by resorting to cosmetics, of all things” Arthur said, shaking his head at Merlin.

It took Merlin a minute to remember what he had said and he bit back an insolent smirk. “You started it,” he said.

“Hmm, I suppose I did, didn’t I?” mused Arthur, touching the love bites on Merlin’s throat with light fingers. Merlin barely suppressed a shiver. 

He swallowed thickly and waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, relax. You know I was joking…for the most part.”

Arthur’s gaped at him, looking somewhere between appalled and impressed.

“For the most part?! You find me unsatisfactory?” Arthur exclaimed, rolling them over so he was on top of Merlin.

Merlin shook with laughter as Arthur tickled him in the ribs. “I think the word I used was ‘subpar’,” he wheezed, tears streaming from in his eyes.

“I’ll show you _subpar,”_ Arthur said, grabbing the hem of Merlin’s tunic and removing it from over his head.

Merlin complied easily, even more so when Arthur kissed him again.

It was not long before a vase on the windowsill shattered where it stood, courtesy of Merlin.

Arthur decided to ignore it. He had found something - _someone-_ better to pay attention to, and sorcerer or not, Arthur hoped he would have him for a very long time.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on an absolute roll, aren't I? Quarantine got my creative juices flowing.  
> Well, I hope you enjoyed this fluffy little one-shot!  
> Do comment and let me know what you thought!
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](https://acciomeriin.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Till next time!


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